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A tale of S.
Inspired by E. A. Poe (modified by A. Reader)

During the winter of the year 2013, while residing in Dubai, UAE, I casually made the acquaintance of S..

I gazed at S. wonderingly - bathed in the full knowledge of S.'s origins--Abrams royalty. Conceived by JJ and brought to life by his partner, D Dorst, their imaginations were singularly vigorous and creative. S. no doubt derived additional force in this world from such privileged entry, albeit from a long and arduous labor.

S. was remarkable in every respect, and excited in me a profound interest and curiosity. A handsomely presented specimen, unlike anything seen before, I was eager to know S. better. There was something about S. that bewitched me; thrilled me. The mere sight of S. sent me in to a dream, turning my back on the world of waking consciousness. Could S. introduce me to a sphere of mystery, menace and desire?

I found it almost impossible to explain S. in both convention and appearance. Fully cloaked in a fierce black covering and sealed in a translucent sheath, S. looked formidable. There was a moment of pure exhilaration when S.'s sleeve exposed a glimmer of classic refinement. My eyes grew bright to a degree almost inconceivable and my face was aglow with girlish delight. Spurred on by the impulse of desire, I gently removed S.'s coverings.

What I saw perplexed me in no little degree. While S. certainly seemed elegant on the outside, beneath the layers I had little trouble imagining S. to have had a very hard and difficult life. S. emitted a strange musty odour and bore a putrid yellow complexion. S.'s skin looked dull, battered and in various degrees of distress, and tattoo-like images covered S.'s back. It seemed that physically S. had not always been this way but somehow had been reduced from a condition of more than usual beauty to what now lay before me. I soon, however, grew accustomed to these features. With tenderness, respect and understanding, I touched and caressed S., while being mindful not to harm the edge-worn, scuffed and dented body.

There was simply no denying it; I felt an immediate connection.

Within our first few hours together, S. and I were constant companions. Little by little a very distinct magnetic relation existed. I began to delight in the multilayered and complex S. While at times S. was difficult to work out and understand, for the most part S. was exciting--different--unexpected. I could see that there was a whole lot going on within this complex S. package.

Before long S. took on multiple personalities and I followed the musings of these identities with much interest. First S. unveiled the identity of V. M. Straka, an author of the book "Ship of Theseus". There's mystery surrounding Straka's identity as well as the identity of his translator, F. X. Caldeira. Next S. unveiled two other identities; a college senior (Jen) and a former graduate student (Eric), both literary majors. Their stories unfold simultaneously and then intersect, all within the pages of Straka's novel. I try valiantly to eavesdrop on these conversations. S. provides me with postcards, photographs, newspaper clippings, letters—even a hand-drawn map written on a napkin from a coffee shop; clues that may help me to discover hidden messages and codes.

After sharing several (long) days and nights with S., my initial excitement turned into one of wariness. It was clear that S. was trying to make me understand the internal logic governing 'what' is said and 'when' by each of the personalities. Given S.'s inability to integrate the various aspects of identity, memory and consciousness, it was up to me to unleash that dilemma.

An indescribable uneasiness possessed me. I feared to progress further, lest I should be precipitated into some abyss.

I began to rethink my relationship with S. The scenery which initially presented itself had now become all too much. Overcome by exertion (and exhaustion), and by a certain oppressive closeness, a feeling of animosity existed between us.

I have since parted ways with S.

It is apparent that S. has wasted no time in moving on, experiencing close connections with others. I bear S. no ill feeling and send my best wishes for fulfilling and sustainable relationships in the future.

However, if you have yet to come across S., heed this warning.
S. is high maintenance and demands a tremendous amount from you. If you’re not prepared to give every inch to work alongside S. in examining each and every one of the personalities and clues, it’s probably for the best that you don’t begin. It's all or nothing and no in-between.

S. will remain for me one of the most staggering feats of production I have ever witnessed. S. combines mystery, literary analysis, innovation, tradition, adventure and love in an exquisite package.

While our relationship didn't last, I consider it a privilege to have spent time with S.

Postscript:

[Overall rating: 3.5*/5]